


sunchoke

by flyway



Category: NCT (Band), WayV (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Food Magazine, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 09:56:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17620271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyway/pseuds/flyway
Summary: Kun, Ten, and summer at the Sunchoke magazine test kitchen.





	sunchoke

**Author's Note:**

> WAYV FINALLY DEBUTED!!!! i'm so happy TT here's a fic in honour of kun finally getting a job <3 <3 <3
> 
> i've been wanting to write tenkun since last year but never got around to it until i started binge-watching bon appétit videos on youtube :') i love food and have always wanted to get into food writing so i got rly excited to write this!! i hope that it translates when you guys read it <3
> 
> several disclaimers: 1) a lot of the food mentioned are my ugly brainchildren so don't think too much of the combinations, 2) their process seems kinda lax but it's bc they're not a big magazine like ba, so most of them do the work of three, four people combined, 3) there are a lot terms but none of them rly matter in the end amirite
> 
> big thanks and kisses to emily ilu

_VEGETABLES_. Ten, Sunchoke magazine’s creative director, says it with his hands forming their own banner then follows it up with, “I’ve been thinking of what theme to do for the fall-slash-holiday issue, so I ran it over with Doyoung, and he agreed it’d be good since the holidays normally run meat-centric. I mean, we can get some serious aesthetic mileage that beats everyone’s Norman Rockwell turkey, right?”

Kun hums in some sort of agreement, his attention focused on the beautiful heirloom tomatoes he’s cutting up for a snack. After a sprinkling of salt, he offers the bowl to Ten, who plucks up a piece with his fingers and sucks on the juices that are running into the crevices of his hand.

“So you mean, like, root vegetables?” Kun asks.

“Yeah,” Ten answers before getting another. The tomatoes are incredible, sweet and juicy, so Kun frowns at the thought of roasting shit like pumpkins when he just wants caprese salads and avocado toasts. “Don’t pout like that,” Ten admonishes him upon noticing. “You look cuter when you don’t.”

“I’m thinking of what to do,“ Kun deflects. Everyone else would be publishing recipes on rib-sticking stews and endless variations of beet and citrus salads. Apple desserts of all kinds and a hundred and one ways to cook a potato, too. So his recipe, whatever it is, has to be… not those.

Ten looks at him like he was expecting Kun to say something more. He pushes his glasses up his nose, his fingers drumming on the marble surface of the test kitchen countertop he’s sitting on. “Stuck already?” he teases at Kun’s silence.

“Fuck out of here,” Kun scoffs as Ten laughs it off and gets down from his seat, taking one last piece of tomato with him. The juice drips down his wrist to his elbow.

“Make sure to call me first once you start testing recipes!” Ten calls from the door before going back to his cubicle.

 

 

So that’s how Kun finds himself peeling some knobbly celery root. He’s in the middle of prepping the second one when Doyoung, the food director, walks into the test kitchen to spy on the variations of avocado toast Taeyong is doing for the magazine’s Instagram account but ends up nearer Kun’s station, eyebrows raising at the sight of the ugly thing in Kun’s hand.

“Celery root,” Doyoung comments.

“How do you eat yours?” Kun asks.

“Very simply,” Doyoung answers. “I like a root vegetable mash. Now, if you’ll excuse me…” He doesn’t even pretend to look like he isn’t pushing Kun aside to get to Taeyong.

With the eye gouger on the side of the y-peeler, he digs out some shit stuck in the crevices then sets the freshly peeled root into a bowl of cold water to sit with the first one. Then he heads to the pantry for ideas, grabbing some lemons and some kelp and bonito flakes to make _dashi_ with. On the way out, he grabs some yuzu salt someone so graciously brought back for the test kitchen and thinks of making celery root fries as a snack.

He starts with slicing the root into thick medallions, searing them in a dutch oven while the _dashi_ steeps. Once the _dashi_ ’s ready, he pours it into the dutch oven and lets the celery root simmer, seasoning with rice wine and light soy sauce halfway through.

The other root he cuts into thin, lengthwise batons, which he soaks in water before getting them going in oil at a low temperature till tender. After cooling, he fries them again at a higher temperature for colour then sprinkles yuzu salt while the fries are still hot. He steals a bite and another, mindlessly going through the pile while checking his phone, sucking his fingers to get the bright tartness of the citrus peel. It’s good, but barely a recipe, and as he plates up the simmered celery root, he thinks of that tartness and squeezes some lemon on top of the dish.

Kun calls Jaemin over to try, watching Jaemin nod his head as he chews. The way his face changes makes Kun’s stomach twist.

“You know what? This would taste so good with some rice,” Jaemin finally says as he continues to eat.

“Yeah, it’s a classic _nimono_ , but with this ugly vegetable,” Kun explains.

“Ah, that’s that. It’s a little homey, like nothing really, like, _pops_ , you know? If I were a reader, I think I’d want something more,” Jaemin offers. He gives Kun a little pat on the back and adds, “The lemon is a nice touch, by the way. I love the acid. I swear, if you eat this with rice it’s gonna be _magical_.”

 

***

 

“How’s everything going?” Ten whispers into Kun’s ear. He must have sidled up to Kun while he was busy with his notes, scrawling measurements next to the bullet list of ingredients. Kun freezes at the contact, making Ten laugh. “Sorry, were you busy?”

“Just enough,” Kun answers.

“Do you wanna go see the farmers’ market with me today?” Ten asks. “I’d go with Jaemin, but apparently it’s his turn to film today, and Lucas said I can’t interrupt… whatever it is he’s doing today.”

“What about Doyoung?” Kun then suggests.

“Nooooo,” Ten whines. “In all honesty, you were my first choice.”

“Because you want me to cook you something,” Kun accuses him with a sigh at the end.

“Nope,” Ten insists, with his lips popping to emphasise the ‘p’ sound. “ _I_ want to cook _you_ something.”

Despite himself, Kun is smiling. “Like what?” he urges.

“See, this is why you’re going to the market with me.” Like he knows he’s won, Ten smiles in anticipation as Kun closes his notebook and pen then reaches for Kun’s hand, lacing his fingers into it as he presses his body against Kun’s.

It’s nothing new, by any means, but Kun’s hoping his hand isn’t sweaty.

Ten ushers him out, past Taeyong, who was carrying a sheet tray of cookies, and past Doyoung, whose eyes were severely narrowed at the sight of Kun leaving with Ten.

“We’re going to the farmers’ market!” Ten tells Doyoung, his voice lilting into a slight sing-song. “I’ll buy you a nice burrata, how’s that sound?”

“Whatever,” Doyoung scoffs.

Once they’ve left the building, Ten asks again, “How’s everything going? You were working on a recipe, right?”

With that, Kun goes on to talk about the dish he was working on, a classic Japanese technique of braising vegetables and/or meat in stock so the flavour seeps in. “With the celery root, I guess the problem is textural. I’m not sure readers would want something that delicate without a counterbalance,” he says.

“Like something punchy.”

Kun nods.

Ten chews on his lip for a while. “I think you should just take that direction and run with it,” he says, “considering the holidays are a time for home or whatever. Think of it like a comforting family meal you’d book a flight for kind of thing.”

Kun hums at the suggestion, feeling empty when they finally get to the market square and Ten lets go of his hand to inspect some summer squashes at a nearby stall.

“I feel good about these,” Ten says, letting Kun appreciate the tight, shiny skins and firmness of the squashes. “Did you know I used to be vegan?”

The look Kun must have given him says a lot, because Ten has another wicked grin on his face, his eyes shining.

“Are you thinking I was subsisting on bowls?” Ten asks lightly. He buys three different squashes—a zucchini and two kinds of yellow ones, one of which has wrinkled, bumpy skin—while Kun flounders for an answer. “Well, you’re right, since there aren’t many ways to cook quinoa and chickpeas.”

“Bowls aren’t bad,” Kun says. “I like them.”

“So if I make you one today, you won’t complain?”

“I’ll be slightly disappointed,” Kun answers with a laugh at Ten rolling his eyes. He follows Ten further inside and buys some chilled mango juice someone is selling. It would’ve been cloyingly sweet if not for the good sense of the seller to cut it with some lime juice, so he tilts the straw towards Ten, offering him a sip.

“Okay, keep your eyes peeled for dairy,” Ten instructs after licking his lips. “Some fresh goat cheese would be nice.”

“And Doyoung’s burrata,” Kun reminds him.

“Whatever,” Ten brushes off with a roll of his eyes. “You’re right anyway.”

 

 

Ten steals some puff pastry from the test kitchen freezer and gets Kun slicing the summer squashes into thin rounds on a mandolin while he docks the pastry into a baking pan.

“I thought you were gonna cook me something,” Kun grouses.

“I am! It’s _my_ recipe,” Ten insists, but he takes the mandolin from Kun’s hands anyway. “Fine, I’ll take over. Can you pick some thyme leaves for me, then?”

“You’re giving me a worse job!”

“Someone has to do it!” Ten counters in a loud voice, causing Lucas to look up from his collection of kombucha bottles.

“Can you guys please be quiet? I’m concentrating,” Lucas says.

“Shit, sorry, Xuxi.”

They fall into silence. Kun takes the liberty of salting the squash rounds before he tears thyme leaves away from their stems. Meanwhile, Ten slices a red onion on the mandolin and minces up some garlic. Ten is so good at making things pretty—he lays the slices (all remaining water squeezed the hell out of it) in shingles across the surface of the puff pastry, which is glistening from a brush of olive oil and dots of garlic, and he letsthe onion slices fall over the squash shingle in a deliberate scatter. After a final drizzle of olive oil and a dash of salt and pepper on top, the tart’s ready to go into the oven.

“So it wasn’t a bowl,” Kun comments as Ten checks his phone, Ten giving him a snort.

“I’m making you a kale and sweet potato bowl and you are gonna fucking love it,” Ten threatens him. Kun pouts and Ten leans into him, using Kun’s shoulder to rest his head on as he scrolls through his phone some more and asks, “Any plans tonight?”

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“No, not really.” It’s a Tuesday, after all. “Why?”

Ten shrugs. “Just asking. Jaehyun wants to have a drink with me, but I’m feeling lazy.”

“Why don’t you just go?”

“He’s bringing his boyfriend, and I hate feeling left out,” Ten complains. “You should come with me if you have nothing to do tonight.”

“You want me to meet your friends?” Kun says blankly, as if he and Ten _aren’t_ friends. “Why?”

“ _Because_ I think you’re cool,” Ten says as a matter of fact and with a slight sniff. “Check on the tart, will you?”

The scent of thyme fills their section of the test kitchen, the slight hint of lemon and mint hitting Kun like a heady perfume when he cracks open the oven door to steal a look. It’s not quite done; the summer squashes have only just begun to take on colour and the puff pastry is a sad pale gold. “Few more minutes,” Kun tells him.

“I’m starving,” Ten whines, but he falls back into his previous position, the short strands of his hair standing up to tickle Kun’s jaw. “So will you go with me or not? My treat.”

“Is this a bribe?”

“If you don’t like me, sure.”

Kun shakes his head. “Save your money. I’ll go anyway,” he says.

Ten seats himself up and gives Kun some suggestive brows, but before he can open his mouth to say anything, Doyoung enters the test kitchen and starts demanding the both of them for the cheese they promised to buy him.

“It’s in one of the bags,” Ten sighs while pointing at the eco-bags they dragged in from the farmers’ market. He relaxes enough to lean into Kun again, eyes going straight back to his phone. “We got some tomatoes, too.”

Doyoung arranges the burrata and some cut tomatoes onto a plate, with a glug of olive oil, a bit of salt, and a healthy crack of black pepper. He brings it with him out of the test kitchen, stopping briefly by Ten and Kun to say, “Thanks for lunch,” before he starts stuffing his face while walking.

“Hey, Johnny and I are doing the cover for the cookbook later,” Ten calls out. “Coming?”

“Of course!” Doyoung calls back, words muffled.

“Hey, I gotta check on the tart again,” Kun mutters so Ten would get up. This time Ten perches himself on the countertop as he waits for Kun.

“The goat cheese,” Ten reminds him. He waits for Kun to crumble the fresh cheese on top of the tart so he could take photos for his personal Instagram account then, with wild hands, motions for Kun to slice the fucking thing already.

“It’s hot,” Kun warns him as he passes him a plate with a steaming slice. Ten takes a big bite with a long and loud exhale and just nods in appreciation as he continues to chew. Kun takes a much smaller bite but makes sure to get a bit of everything on his fork, so he could taste the sweetness of the caramelised squash, the creamy tang of goat cheese that cut through the luxurious texture of zucchini and the buttery puff pastry, the grassiness of thyme that filled his mouth without overwhelming it—it complemented the onion and garlic that mellowed out into the pastry.

Ten looks at him in expectation, the tines of his fork poised between his lips.

“It’s really good,” Kun says, and Ten smiles widely.

“You know what we need now? That bottle of Riesling I picked up last week.”

“I still have work to do,” Kun protests.

“Oh, come on, we don’t work in a fucking _bank_ —” Ten stops himself, maybe because of how his wide grin has split his face nearly in half and how he feels like humouring Kun. “Fine, I’ll save it for later, _loser_. Dinner’s at eight. Don’t forget.”

 

 

The place they are to meet serves neo-Neapolitan style pizza. No wine bottles on the table, no checkered cloths, no little shakers of chilli flakes and dried oregano. There’s a wood-fired oven inside, where pizza gets shoved in with long paddles, only taken out when the crust is properly burnished and crisp.

Kun finds them in the al fresco dining area, using menus to fan themselves. Ten is breathing through slightly parted lips like a goldfish, sweat dotting his hairline, and the area of his chest exposed by a low neckline has a sheen of sweat that catches the light every time he moves. He sees Kun first and waves him over and kisses him on both cheeks.

“Jaehyun,” he introduces himself while standing up with his hand towards Kun, who takes it.

“This is Kun,” Ten says for him. “That’s Jaehyun’s boyfriend, Yuta.”

Yuta tilts his glass of wine towards Kun in greeting. “Hey,” he says. After a quick run-through of Kun’s outfit, he adds, “Aren’t you hot?”

“Wha—Oh.” Now that Kun notices, he feels overdressed in the face of Yuta’s tank top and Jaehyun’s t-shirt. He fidgets with his sleeves and rolls them up as he sits down beside Ten, who giggles.

“Kun’s just, like, really proper,” Ten tells them. He pours wine into Kun’s glass, a Riesling that has soft bubbles rising to the surface.

“We ordered already, is that okay?” Jaehyun mentions.

Kun nods and takes a sip of the crisp, cool wine. The first pie comes out not long after and from then, it becomes easier for Kun to slip into the conversation, especially with Jaehyun, who praises the construction of charred kale and sweet summer corn with bits of shaved onion.

“They put some lemon zest in the ricotta,” Kun offers after deliberating on his second slice.

“No shit?” Yuta cuts in. “Your palate is amazing.”

“Bitch, we work in a food magazine,” Ten says with a roll of his eyes.

“Whatever, bitch, don’t you just take pictures?” Yuta retorts.

“Excuse me, Taeyeon was about to make me associate food editor,” Ten grumbles. “And I was like, no, ma’am, I really don’t know that much about food, and I just want to do creative work. I don’t cook a lot at home or whatever, but Kun worked in—What was it? ~wd50?”

At the mention of Kun’s previous workplace, a heavy flush creeps up his cheeks, making him clear his throat. “Only for a bit,” he amends. “I don’t think I was cut out for it anyway.”

“Excuse me, working for Wylie Dufresne, no matter for how long, is a pretty big fucking deal,” Ten insists.

“Kun, honey, what’s it like working with Ten?” Yuta asks.

Jaehyun snorts into his drink and mutters, “Careful.”

“We don’t… work together per se,” Kun starts to explain. “I’m in recipe development and he’s one of the directors.”

“So he’s your boss,” Yuta summarises with a laugh. “Shit, sorry, I don’t wanna get you in trouble or anything.”

“ _Am_ I in trouble?” Kun asks Ten. He’s feeling warm and lightheaded and Ten looks at him with a face Kun can’t explain.

A fresh pizza is put on their table, the smell of soppressata sizzling in its own fat making their mouths water. Over the pie, Ten leans in and asks Kun, “Do you want to be?”

Jaehyun laughs at that as he serves up slices for everyone, licking his fingers afterwards for the honey that was drizzled on top of the pizza and stuck to his fingers. Yuta goes ahead and refills the glasses, giving Kun more than there should be in the glass just so they can order another bottle.

“Mm!” Ten exclaims after taking a bite of pizza. “Kun, face me.”

Kun turns his head and is surprised to find the tip of Ten’s slice placed against his mouth by him. He opens his mouth slightly to take a bite, surprised at the sweet, salty, spicy but mostly at Ten.

“It’s so good, right?” Ten prompts.

“Yeah,” Kun agrees with his hand covering his mouth as he chewed, his other hand gesturing at the green chilli slices on the pizza. “You see these on top? They’re pickled.”

“ _Amazing_ ,” Yuta repeats. “You’re gonna be my plus one from now on, Kunnie. Make me look _smart_.”

“ _Kun_ looks smart. You still look like a baboon,” Ten sniffs.

Yuta glares at Jaehyun. “You’re not gonna say anything?”

“Like what?”

“Like, excuse me, my boyfriend is intelligent.”

Jaehyun turns to face Ten and repeats, “My boyfriend is intelligent.”

 

***

 

Jaemin watches as Kun lays out a steaming bowl of rice in the centre of many other dishes—simmered celery root topped with sesame seeds, bok choy poached and served with shredded crabmeat and scrambled egg white, sweet potato and pumpkin in hotpot with mushrooms, cauliflower that Kun stir fried in Sichuan peppercorns and dried chillies. “ _This_ is a recipe?” Jaemin wonders aloud.

“You don’t _have_ to make all of them, of course,” Kun tells him.

“I said a reader would want something more, but you really came out with a banquet,” Jaemin points out. “Can I try?”

Even Taeyong is interested—he walks over to Kun’s station to look at the spread and tries to pick up a cauliflower floret with his fingers before Kun swats it away. “Is this for the fall issue?” Taeyong asks.

“He’s trying to make the cover,” Jaemin jokes.

“I’m not sure which of these will work,” Kun admits. With the deadline for the fall issue recipes fast approaching, he knows he’s getting desperate. On top of that, he needs to work on the write-up for any that get approved. “I’m waiting for Doyoung and Xuxi before we try everything.”

“You haven’t tried them before?” Taeyong asks with incredulity.

“I have,” Kun says, “but I’m still figuring out the measurements, so I want you all to be honest with me.”

Doyoung finally comes in, Lucas fast on his heels. Ten, too, enters the test kitchen with Johnny, which made everyone in the magazine but the website guys, and they all stop in their tracks upon seeing what Kun has laid out on his station.

“Party!” Ten exclaims. He goes to get chopsticks and bowls for everyone as well as a serving spoon for the rice. “Are all these for the fall issue?”

“Just whatever works,” Kun answers.

“You really did the whole Asian mother concept, I _love_ it,” Ten tells him. He settles beside Kun with his pick of the side dishes and starts eating like the rest while Kun only drinks water from his glass, stomach churning in anticipation.

None of them say anything, but it doesn’t escape Kun that they come back for seconds with their rice bowls and chopsticks, eating quietly till everything is finished.

Doyoung leans back on the countertop, face scrunched together in thought, and he pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “I honestly don’t know how to… objectively critique this,” he says slowly. “Not to bring up the _Ratatouille_ moment, but that’s what this is.”

“Oh, dude, that’s what I thought, too!” Johnny adds.

“My only problem is that everything except the cauliflower had similar flavour profiles,” Taeyong mentions while Lucas nods in agreement. “I kind of want something that would brighten up all these things, like a vinegary, sweet and sour thing with the pumpkin.”

Jaemin sucks on the tips of his chopsticks before setting them down and saying, “The bok choy is so good, but I think you should amp up the crabmeat so the rice doesn’t just mute the flavour altogether.”

“Yeah, this kind of food is normally eaten with rice last,” Ten explains. “Right?”

“Oh, shit, yeah,” Lucas interjects. “This is like a mishmash of banquet food… if you’re vegetarian or something.”

“So you just need to work on the seasoning to make it more palatable with rice,” Doyoung says simply. “How’d you get the cauliflower this texture?”

“I deep fried them first,” Kun explains, “then ran them through the wok with all the other stuff while they were still warm.”

“I think that one’s good to go, if you already have a recipe,” Doyoung advises. “The celery root, too, I think. It has a nice acidity and balance.”

Kun heaves a sigh of relief and a breathy thanks, waiting for them all to leave so he can start cleaning up his station.

Ten stays behind. “I’ll help,” he offers as he picks up a stack of bowls to put into the sink. “I really enjoyed the lunch. It’s not the kind of food my nai nai makes, but it feels like it.”

“Thanks,” Kun says again. “I thought a lot about what you said, about making the food feel like home.”

Ten’s head is ducked down, his face hidden, but Kun could hear the smile in his voice. “What can I say? I know my shit, _and_ everything all laid out like that has serious visual appeal.”

There’s a twinge of pride fluttering in Kun’s chest. “Good enough for the cover?” Kun goads.

“Beg me for it, Kunkun.”

“Do you like it when I beg?”

At that, Ten lifts his head up from the sink and gives Kun the most amused, bewildered look. “Are you flirting with me?” he asks, his eyes glimmering and alive.

Kun blinks, venturing a “Maybe” and startling when Ten laughs out loud then goes back to washing the dishes.

 

***

 

Sicheng pushes a drink into Kun’s hand.

Kun pouts at his roommate, at the violent-looking drink in his hand that Sicheng bought for him, but he accepts it anyway and takes a long sip. Sicheng has a taste for sweet, almost cloying drinks, and this one reeks of pineapple, some attempt at having real fruit in the cocktails instead of powdered juice or concentrate.

“I TOLD YOU THE DRINKS WERE SHITTY HERE, SO WHY DIDN’T YOU PREGAME?” Sicheng demands at seeing Kun wrinkle his nose. He’s shouting because the music is drowning his voice out.

The drinks are ridiculously priced for the taste, sure, but since Lucas has been spoiling everyone at the magazine with his lunchtime “mixes”, Kun can only think of how much more complexity in the drinks could be gained from making better choices—

“STOP IT. I KNOW YOU’RE THINKING. DON’T THINK, JUST DRINK.”

“I’M DRINKING IT,” Kun insists before he finishes the entire glass. He leaves Sicheng on the dance floor to order another drink from the bar, a gin and tonic because it’s safe, and he spends a good bit of time lounging around the area near the bar to nurse it.

By the time he decides to go back to the dance floor, a fourth drink in hand and buzzed enough, he finds Sicheng dancing with someone. The bracelets are recognisable, tiger’s eye beads and jade—Ten’s mother bought them for him at some store on Yaowarat Road and Ten joked once that he was wearing his home on his sleeve.

Kun’s being goes on autopilot, stepping in between Sicheng and Ten to say, “Hey.”

Ten doesn’t stop; he smiles up at Kun with his bottom lip caught between his teeth. “Hey, sexy,” he says.

Sicheng gives them a look, stepping closer to Ten to ask, “How do you know each other?”

“We work together, darling,” Ten tells Sicheng. “Is he the roommate? Oh my god, he’s the roommate, isn’t he?”

“I’m going outside,” Sicheng says, taking his drink with him as he searches the ass pocket of his denim romper for his cigarettes.

As Sicheng steps out, Ten wraps his arms around Kun’s neck, and Kun stumbles, a bit of the drink sloshing out of the glass and onto his hand. “SICHENG WAS TRYING TO SET ME UP WITH YOU,” Ten says, raising his voice against TLC’s ‘No Scrubs’ and every single gay guy shouting along to it inside the room.

“WHAT?”

“YOUR—ROOM—MATE—SAID—WE’D—HIT—IT—OFF.”

“DON’T WE?” Kun shouts back. Ten reaches for Kun’s drink and brings it up to his lips before Kun has time to peel his fingers away. It’s hot, so Ten’s hand is a little sweaty, and sweat is beading up and rolling down his neck, where Kun’s gaze begins to linger as he watches Ten dance, keeping up with small movements of his own.

So his boss is hot. So he wants to lick his boss’s neck—no, wait, _Doyoung_ is his boss and Ten is someone higher up the payroll who bugs Kun for food whenever he’s bored…

Whatever. He wants to lick Ten’s neck, end of discussion.

 

***

 

The scramble to get all the content ready for the layout team is usually the worst, made worse for Kun when Doyoung says his dishes are going to be on the cover, so he has to prepare them all for the shoot later that afternoon or Ten will have his ass or whatever. Ten comes into the test kitchen a little after lunch to do the plating, working with Kun in silence till Kun has the last of the dishes, the hotpot, simmering away on the stove.

“Kunkun,” Ten begins as he pushes his glasses up his nose, “when are you asking me out?”

“You wanted me to?” Kun asks.

“God, it’s like you don’t even know me,” Ten complains with a pout. “I’m hurt.”

“I just don’t like making assumptions.”

After hearing that, Ten looks annoyed, but keeps his voice light as he teases Kun, “What, you think I’m _cooler_ than you or something, nerd?”

Sicheng said something along the lines of Kun only understanding people superficially. He was drunk then, but Kun couldn’t forget it—even without realising Ten is attractive, Kun thought of how to maneuver himself into being someone that could entertain Ten. “Go out with me,” Kun says finally.

“Really?” Ten goads, a wide smile on his face. “You’re gonna show me who’s cool, Kunkun?” He steals a bite of cauliflower and licks his lips.

Kun shuts off the heat on the stove, partly to let the vegetables steam inside the clay pot and partly to cup Ten’s face between his hands. “Ten,” he says, making Ten look up at him with a wicked smile. “Stop talking.”

Ten’s lips part as soon as he feels Kun’s mouth over his, letting Kun slip into them easily. Kun’s hands go down and squeezes Ten by the hips to lift him to place him up on the countertop, which makes Ten let out a squeal and his legs wrap around Kun by instinct. Ten kisses him right back till Kun pulls away, breathless.

Something tips over, but Kun finally has his mouth on Ten’s neck, tongue licking a fat stripe up the column of Ten’s throat, so. Ten lets out a quiet moan. His fingers first grips onto Kun’s shoulders then slips down under Kun’s shirt to feel his skin, teasing the fabric up and—

“ _We have a shoot in thirty, you heathens!_ ” Doyoung shouts, which goes largely ignored as Ten pulls Kun back in.

 

 

The apartment Ten has in the city is all his, sparsely decorated but beautiful. Kun doesn’t get to see much more of it before Ten is dragging him by the wrist to the bedroom, pushing him to sit on the bed and straddling him. Now all Kun can see is Ten, the faded band tee he’s wearing and the thick yellow gold chain around his neck, his wide and flashing smile as he looks down at Kun.

Ten laces his fingers into Kun’s hair and kisses him again, deeply this time with his hips grounding themselves onto Kun’s thighs. Without the noise of the test kitchen, everything feels laid out bare, like the sighs they make that spill out freely into the quiet room.

Kun lets his hands wander, thumbs resting on Ten’s hips as his fingers bring the hem of Ten’s shirt up. Ten feels solid underneath Kun’s palms and squirms from the touch. He leans back slightly to take his entire shirt off then helps Kun with his, keening when Kun tongues over a nipple to the point that he shoves Kun flat down on the bed and gets up to take his pants off.

“You’re such a tease, Kunkun,” Ten whines. With his thumbs, he drags his underwear down to expose his cock, hard and curved upward. It may not have been a deliberate show, but it has Kun’s attention.

“ _I’m_ the tease?” Kun asks, his brow raising. He reaches for Ten and hauls him back to the bed, pushes him down and takes both of his wrists above his head.

All the while, Ten only looks blissful, like he’s finally at ease. Knees spread wide apart, Ten sighs, “That’s it.”

Kun fits himself so easily between Ten’s legs, using his jeans to grind on Ten so the friction would make him squirm and gasp. From there, Kun kisses Ten once more before trailing his mouth down the side of Ten’s body. His grip on Ten’s wrists eventually lose hold, but Ten keeps them there, stretched above him. His eyes are closed, too, and his bottom lip is sucked into his mouth, muffling each time he moans.

Once Kun gets to Ten’s cock, he stops for a bit. He lets his breath linger and still, lets Ten squirm and whine and _beg_ , “Come _onnnn_ –” before taking it into his mouth. The contact makes Ten’s eyes fly open to meet Kun’s gaze. A fierce, bright blush comes to Ten’s cheeks, staining them red. Kun hollows out his cheeks and makes himself go in deeper. Just like that, Ten’s head crashes back into the pillows and he lets out a long, drawn out whine: “Fuuuuck—”

One last suck on the head then Kun is moving down, feeling first the muscles in Ten’s inner thigh twitch against his lips. Then he moves back in, using his hands positioned against the backs of Ten’s legs to push his knees closer to his chest. His entrance is bared, and Ten doesn’t look like he minds much anymore, except for his sheets that are being twisted in his hands.

Kun gives him a tentative lick there and sees Ten’s core muscles jump, hears a strangled moan escape his mouth. It’s all Kun needs in order to bring his head back down and start tonguing him in earnest, nose pressed against the base of Ten’s cock.

“You know what you are?” Ten asks, his voice gone all breathy. “You’re my secret freak daddy.”

At that, Kun brings his head up and frowns. “Please stop talking,” he insists. Heat creeps up his face and ears, making him stop.

Ten laughs but doesn’t say anything more. Kun gets back into it, lapping up first then pressing the flat of his tongue against the entrance.

He’s hard; he feels it pressing against his pants, so with one hand on Ten’s hip and the other on his pants, he frees his cock to touch himself, moaning into Ten’s entrance as his thumb traces circles around the head. As he thrusts more into his hand, he reminds himself to stop and ask Ten for his lube and condoms.

They’re in the bedside table or something. Ten can’t really articulate—he points his finger to the general direction of the table, leaving Kun to go get them. At the same time, Kun strips out his pants once and for all.

Fingers slick with lube, Kun returns between Ten’s legs and rests the back of one knee on his shoulder. He inches in two fingers inside of Ten, Kun’s mouth slack against Ten’s knee.

“Oh my god,” Ten lets out, his eyes slipping shut again. “You don’t have to do that, just fuck me, _please_.”

The plea feels like an underwater dream—unreal, almost, but Kun slips his fingers out anyway and puts on a condom, stroking his cock with lube.

He aligns himself with Ten’s entrance, takes a deep breath, and pushes till he’s all the way in, pulls out, then comes right back in. Ten’s touching himself now, writhing his hips back to meet Kun’s thrusts. Kun places his weight on the palms of his hands, keeping them on either side of Ten’s head.

Ten’s breath comes in heavy gasps, hot against Kun’s skin. When he comes, he yanks Kun by his hair to kiss him. Their teeth clash and knock against each other, but Ten doesn’t stop, chasing after Kun’s mouth like he’s hungry and slipping his tongue in between Kun’s lips.

Kun falls out of rhythm and starts chasing after his own orgasm. What gets him is Ten sucking on the cum that’s dripped all over his fingers, making Kun come inside. He rides it out for a little while longer before pulling out, his chest heaving.

Ten is also breathing heavily, but he makes space for Kun on the bed and kisses him when he finally lies down. “I still think you’re secretly a freak,” Ten teases. Kun shuts him up with another kiss.

 

***

 

An excerpt from the 20XX Fall Issue “VEG FANTASY”, available October 1st:

_Fall is the time of prosperity, thanksgiving, and excess. The Chinese had dealing with excess all figured out with the lazy Susan—individual bowls of rice by your side and all else on a spinning contraption so you can avoid saying, “Please pass the potatoes.” With it, you can just stuff your face (and serve everyone) with reckless self-abandon and indulgence. These four dishes are not only (mostly) vegan-friendly and an homage to fall, they also have Lazy Susan Energy—you’d want to make a big batch for yourself and for sharing, no lazy Susan required. -Kun_

**_GET THE RECIPES_ ** _:_ _SIMMERED CELERY ROOT_ _•_ _POACHED BOK CHOY IN CRABMEAT_ _•_ _FALL VEGETABLES IN HOTPOT WITH MUSHROOMS_ _•_ _CHONGQING-STYLE DRY-FRIED CAULIFLOWER WITH CHILIES_


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